


This Magic Moment

by Jenna_of_the_Red_Robes



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, dancing gaby, gallya, sleepy illya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenna_of_the_Red_Robes/pseuds/Jenna_of_the_Red_Robes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaby began to sway in place, humming along to the tune. She looked over at Illya with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Dance with me.” She stated as she walked towards him.</p>
<p>The Russian’s lip twitched as he tried to fight the smile that threatened to form. “I don’t dance.”</p>
<p>A fic in which a sleepy Illya is confronted by a dancing Gaby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Magic Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt requesting "an agreeable Illya dancing in a hotel room with Gaby sometime after the film." My tmfu tumblr is lil-chop-shop-girl. 
> 
> This is based around the song This Magic Moment by The Drifters. I would personally recommend listening to the song while you read it.
> 
> Please enjoy this fluffy little thing! :)

Illya closed his eyes as he reclined in a worn-down chair, thinking back over the operation they had just completed. Saying the Istanbul mission had been messy would be an understatement; It was a veritable fiasco. The Russian was relieved that he would be boarding a plane in the morning that would hopefully take him far away from this place. Waverly hadn’t briefed the team yet on the new destination, he would just have to wait and see.

His mental debriefing was interrupted by three light knocks on the door to his room. They were so quiet in fact, that the exhausted spy initially believed that he had imagined them. Three more knocks rang through the room, loud enough now that he couldn’t dismiss them.

He let out an annoyed groan as he rose from his seat, deciding that if Solo was behind the door then he was just going to slam it in the American’s obnoxiously smug face.

Illya opened the door swiftly, a cowboy-themed insult upon his lips. An insult he never got the chance to utter for Solo was not the one outside his room – It was Gaby. The German was dressed in her usual button up pajamas, a customary bottle of vodka clasped in her hand. A surprisingly full looking bottle, she apparently hadn’t had much to drink just yet. His mind unwillingly flashed back to a time when a very similarly attired Gaby had shared his hotel room in Rome.

“Are you going to let me in?” She asked, placing her hand on her hip. “Or are you going to make me stand out here all night?”

The Russian momentarily forgot how to speak. Gaby had the disconcerting tendency to throw him completely off guard and his current fatigued state certainly wasn't helping the situation. The small woman just rolled her eyes at his confused expression as she slipped under his arm and into the room.

“Yes, come in.” He managed to say after a moment as he closed the door behind her.

Gaby was already over by the small radio in the room, fiddling with the dials.

“Gaby, why are you here?” Illya asked as he regarded her, an amused twinkle in his usually cold-looking eyes. “You should be asleep. We leave early.” He continued in a slightly concerned tone. He knew that this mission hadn’t been easy on Gaby. It hadn’t been easy for any of them.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her expression guarded. “I couldn’t sleep.” The German stated tersely as she turned back to the radio. She placed her bottle of vodka on top of the music player with a loud bang.

Quietly at first, music began to fill the room as Gaby slowly turned up the dial. _“I knew that you felt it too, by the look in your eyes. Sweeter than wine. Softer than the summer night.”_ The singer crooned, the song echoing through the room.

Gaby began to sway in place, humming along to the tune. She looked over at Illya with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Dance with me.” She stated as she walked towards him.

The Russian’s lip twitched as he tried to fight the smile that threatened to form. “I don’t dance.”

“You will dance with me.” She affirmed, ignoring his mild protest and wrapping her delicate hands around his large wrists. They began to sway awkwardly from side to side, the scene eerily reminiscent of a similar dance they shared in Rome.

Gaby suddenly released her grip as she ran her hands up his arms before interlocking her fingers behind his neck. Prompted by her actions, Illya hesitantly gripped her slim waist.

He looked down at her nervously. Gaby Teller was an enigma – she made him feel things he had been trained not to feel, she made him form attachments he wasn’t allowed to have. Despite how wrong this was supposed to be, Illya couldn’t deny how _right_ it felt having the little chop shop girl in his arms.

_“This magic moment, while your lips are close to mine.”_

Caught in the moment, the Russian began to lean towards Gaby. She stood on her toes trying to lessen the distance between them, her eyes flickering towards his lips. At the last second, Illya turned his head to the side – placing a light kiss on her cheek instead.

_“Will last forever, forever till the end of time.”_


End file.
